


Capul Balaurului

by Forgive_Me_Severus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Antipodean Opaleye, Auror Adrian Pucey, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Marcus Flint, Barrister Draco Malfoy, Barrister Hermione Granger, Barrister Theo Nott, Capul Balaurului, Care of Magical Creatures, Draco Constellation, Draco Malfoy/Theo Nott/Hermione Granger friendship, Dragonologist Charlie Weasley, Dragons, Eventual Charmione, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hermione can be a bit of a bitch just FYI, Hermione/Theo friendship, I'll try to add trigger warnings if it comes to it, Illegal poaching, Magivet Hermione Granger, Magizoologist Hermione Granger, Magizoologist Theo Nott, Parcul National Cheile Nerei-Beusnita, Peoria People, Piasa Bird, Slow Burn, Smuggling, Surgical descriptions (may or may not be explicit), Tattoos, Tons of awesome original characters, background Draco Malfoy/Astoria Greengrass - Freeform, background Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley - Freeform, but for a good reason, mythology galore, romania - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29054544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forgive_Me_Severus/pseuds/Forgive_Me_Severus
Summary: Capul Balaurului: The Dragon's HeadRomanian dragonlore is some of the oldest mythology in the world, which is fitting considering the largest dragon sanctuary sits in a remote, heavily warded part of Parcul National Cheile Nerei-Beusnita.The mythology drew Charlie Weasley to Romania in the first place, but he stayed for the beauty - and the actual dragons. He didn't think about much of anything else while isolated with only twenty other people for the last sixteen years, only very rarely going home to The Burrow. He definitely didn't think about his youngest brother's best friends. Not until one of them showed up out of the blue, anyway.Hermione nearly forgot about the second eldest Weasley son, a man she only met less than a handful of times. When she decided to pursue a career in Magical Creatures - not only advocating for the rights of magical beings and beasts alike, but also studying and healing them - the absolute last person she thought she'd run into was Charlie Weasley during a "business" trip to Romania.They clash - at first. However, when their dragons are threatened, they set aside their differences to fight. Can their hearts take any inevitable loss?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Astoria Greengrass, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 24
Kudos: 19





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Wizarding World.
> 
> Note: I didn't intend to post any of this story until it was at least half written, but between real life, several writing fests I signed up for, and the fact that I didn't want to lose everything since AO3 only keeps drafts for 30 days before they're deleted, I decided to post the prologue now. Don't worry, chapter one is in the editing phase and will be out soon. I hope to update once a week after I post chapter one, however it could be upwards of every two weeks. 
> 
> I'm so excited to write this story. We need more Charmione in the Harry Potter fanfic world!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This playlist by Maggie Kolb inspired part of this fic. There aren't any specific songs to go with chapters. The entire playlist is just vibe: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1yIxaWjoFi9XFGXK0uYoDv?si=Nky6btt9RaqILd9cdUgmbA
> 
> (I don't know how to fix the end note thing because I'm technologically illiterate): 
> 
> I am beta-less, so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> I have a Pinterest board going for this story! Check it out: https://www.pinterest.com/ForgiveMeSeverus/capul-balaurului/
> 
> I feel like I need to add another disclaimer here: I am not a doctor, a vet, or a lawyer, but I can (and do) dedicate hours to make sure that I describe any medical and/or legal procedures as accurately as possible. 
> 
> Fun facts: For this particular chapter, I watched several surgical videos of a posterolateral thoracotomy on both a human and a horse (as well as read medical articles on the lungs, looked at graphics of the chest cavity, etc.) Of course they're different because the anatomy is different, but I wanted to kind of get a feel for both, the horse because our fledgling Opaleye is about the size of an adult horse, and a human because the video of the horse's thoracotomy was incomplete. I also know that A LOT more goes into a thoracotomy than what was described in this chapter, but I didn't think an entire play-by-play was necessary, especially since this chapter is in Charlie's POV. Anyway, please forgive any technical mistakes, as I'm sure there are many.
> 
> Translations: 
> 
> forræder: 'traitor' in Norwegian  
> helbreder: 'healer' in Norwegian  
> ja: 'yes' in German

* * *

Prologue

____________________________

Capul Balaurului Sanctuary

Romania

2007

____________________________

He heard it before he saw it. The faraway crunching of tree branches, cracking and snapping; the ear-piercing roar of a dragon breaking through the midday chatter of the chow hall; the screams and shouts overhead of a language not often heard this deep in the Sanctuary, fading with each passing moment.

Charlie swiveled on the bench, his fork dropping to his stoneware plate with a _clank_ , and stood. Oric leapt to his feet, his chocolate eyes meeting Charlie’s blue. With a silent agreement – both recognizing the language as Lithuanian, and both knowing what that meant - they nodded to each other and rushed out of the large hall, their dragon-hide boots slapping against the concrete floor.

They stopped in the open courtyard, spinning in circles and looking skyward, trying to pinpoint the cries of the injured creature. Not for the first time, Charlie cursed the isolation of The Hole. Heavily warded in a remote area of Parcului Național Cheile Nerei – Beușnița, the renown dragon reserve was surrounded by a thick blanket of forest, which usually added extra peace of mind for the tamers, dragonologists, and creatures alike. But now, the sounds of a dying animal echoed around them and Charlie felt helpless.

“Charlie!” A female’s thickly-accented voice – Saga, he realized - called to him. He whipped around, caught her eye, and she frantically waved him over. “This way!”

She turned and ran, Charlie at her heels, through the woods. Twigs and branches caught his face and arms, nicking his skin, pulling at his shoulder-length auburn hair, but it didn’t slow him down. Not until they reached a clearing did he skid to a stop, his heart pounding in his chest and breathing heavily, his brain trying to process the chaos around him.

“The Pilfs must have another goblin,” Saga began to explain, panting, her hands on her hips as she tried to catch her breath.

When his brain automatically defaulted to identifying the dragon collapsed against a tree, his jaw dropped open. It was an Antipodean Opaleye, a non-native breed to Romania… or Europe, or even this hemisphere, for that matter. He’d never even _seen_ one in person, but he knew what it was as there was no mistaking its shimmering pearlesque scales, unique to the Opaleye.

Unfortunately, in that uniqueness, the scales were considered rare and in high demand by the elites of Wizarding society. Used for jewelry, clothing, even home décor, a kilogram of Opaleye scales went for a thousand Galleons – which meant smuggling this breed, usually fledglings, which this one appeared to be, was becoming commonplace.

But if the sight of the rare dragon wasn’t enough to confuse him, most certainly it was the unfamiliar man standing by the creature’s head, waving his wand, lulling it to sleep. Charlie was quite certain he’d never seen the man before, especially at the Sanctuary. He was tall and lean, a mop of curly brown hair on top of his head, a pair of glasses sliding down an elegant, aristocratic nose. He was wearing… Yeah, definitely not from here if he was wearing Muggle jeans, loafers, and a plain white t-shirt under a fitted navy blazer.

“Theo! If she’s sedated, I need your help!”

Charlie’s head snapped to the voice. While the crouched figure securing the long, thin metal spear sticking out of the dragon’s side was indeed a strange sight, it was even more strange that he recognized that voice. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he _knew_ that voice.

His heart pounding, he took a step forward, his gaze trained on the unfamiliar pair as the man – Theo? – held the spear steady while the woman reached into a gaudy beaded bag – up to her shoulder! – and pulled out a canvas roll and what looked like a white dowel rod.

“Hold it steady! I need just a second…” She was out of breath as she sank to her knees, her long, brown plait swaying with her frantic movements, and she waved the dowel rod over the chest of the fledgling. An image appeared, black and white with shapes he didn’t know the meanings of, but whatever it was she saw caused her to drop the rod and open the canvas roll.

Sunlight bounced off an array of silver-colored objects. From this angle, they looked like a variety of Muggle tools, some similar to the Muggle ones his father kept in his shed. Charlie’s eyes widened when the woman pulled out a blade with a serrated edge and stood, approaching Theo with the blade held outwards.

Charlie took a step forward, ready to protest, but a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, stopping him. He looked back, but Oric didn’t meet his eye. Like the others standing near him, Oric was engrossed in the unusual scene, but he did shake his head, telling Charlie not to react.

“The spear tip has pierced the upper left lobe. I can’t tell how bad the damage is just based on the MI. We’ll have to perform a posterolateral thoracotomy. Once I cut this end of the spear off, I need you to grab my number four blade, my number three blade, and my Finochietto. We need to be quick.”

Theo nodded at the woman, but she hesitated then looked up at the crowd as if noticing them for the first time. Charlie squinted at her, trying to place her profile to the voice. He still wasn’t sure how, but he knew her. He _knew_ he did. She nodded to a newer tamer – Johnson? Johnston? – and twitched her head, indicating she needed his help. The new guy hesitated, his back straightening, eyes widening, and pointed at himself.

“Yeah, you. I’m going to need you to hold the spear steady while I cut it. I need Theo’s hands free while I operate. Can you do that?” The woman asked impatiently. He audibly exhaled and nodded, stepping forward and taking Theo’s place at the spear.

Charlie’s heart galloped with the woman’s words.

_Cut_ the spear? That’s… Wait…

_Operate?_ Isn’t that a Muggle thing?

“You need to remain as still as possible, okay? I’m going to cut the spear at the hide. It shouldn’t take long,” the woman instructed, her voice clear and strong.

The man nodded and repositioned his hands over the spear.

The woman’s head whipped back around towards Theo, nodding at him again, then lifted the silver saw and with two back-and-forth motions, the external part of the spear broke away. The new tamer held it as it fell into his hands, amazement flickering over his features.

“Number four blade,” the woman commanded, holding out her gloved hand. Theo slapped a silver four-inch blade in her hand, and she cut through the dragon’s hide with ease.

The crowd gasped; Charlie’s own bafflement was lost in the collective sound. That was impossible! Nothing could pierce a dragon’s hide except…

“Her tools are made of goblin-wrought silver,” Saga murmured in awe. She turned to him, her blonde braids whipping around her head. “Charlie, do you have any idea how difficult it is to obtain goblin-wrought silver? It’s enough that the Pilfs somehow befriended a _forræder_ , but for a _helbreder_ to have a set of tools such as those… She must be well trusted.” 

_Well trusted._

Those words bounced around in Charlie’s brain as the woman made a second cut through layers of fat and muscle, exposing the rib cage. Using a… well, he didn’t know exactly what it was, but she held up the device and then looked back at the new tamer, who was still holding half the spear. 

“I need you again. What’s your name?”

“Jungmann,” the new tamer grunted in a heavy German accent. 

_Jungmann_ , _that’s right…_

“Jungmann. When I crank this handle right here, it will spread the ribs and I’ll be able to better assess the damage to the fledgling’s lung. When I tell you to, I’m going to have you retract the rest of the spear, okay?” 

“ _Ja_ ,” Jungmann agreed, handing the spear off to another onlooker, then stood close to the woman, his eyes focused on the spear, his fingers flexing in anticipation. 

Turning to Theo, she murmured, “The spear tip has pierced the third intercostal space. I’m afraid it’s gone through the pleural cavity and into the lung. Ready my number two vial of sutures and I’ll need your help siphoning any blood. We may end up with a pneumothorax so get a number two tube ready.” 

Theo nodded, grabbed a silver vial from the canvas pouch, and then levitated a metal-like tube by his head with a silent wave of his wand.

“Wand at the ready, Theo. Jungmann, on my count of three, I’ll have you pull the spear out. One… two… three!”

Jungmann pulled, and the spear came out with the first tug. The woman dove in, blocking the scene with her body, motioning frantically to Theo to siphon blood away, streams of dragon blood flowing into an open container at their feet. She held out her hand and with a silent request, Theo opened the vial and took out a single, glittering blue strand, handing it to her. 

She worked quietly for a few tense minutes, occasionally holding out her hand for an instrument from the pouch, or an impatient wave of her fingers indicated he needed to siphon more blood. Finally, after Theo handed her a small clear container of a sage-green paste, she stepped back from the dragon, smearing a layer of the paste on the dragon’s hide. Then she sighed tiredly.

The crowd broke out in cheers.

She jumped and spun around, her bloodied glove grasping her lilac-colored button-down blouse. She was flustered, obviously forgotten she had an audience, and murmured out of the side of her mouth to Theo, who nodded and began to clean up the tools and mess. 

Taking off her gloves, she shoved them into her back pocket, waved her wand over her body – Charlie suspected a strong _Tergeo_ was used – and then grimaced at the onlookers before turning towards Quinn Rawlings, the director of The Hole, who walked out of the crowd and grasped her hand, shaking it fervently. 

Around him, people were excitedly chatting, speculating, patting each other on the backs. Oric squeezed both of his shoulders before stepping towards Saga, pulling her into a hug and gestured towards the fledgling Opaleye – which was still sedated, the long tube hanging out of a small hole in its side. A small box was attached to the end of the tube – assuming to collect any fluids draining from the wound - and sat flush with the mossy ground. Tearing his eyes from the operation site, he watched Theo check the dragon’s eyes with his wand light, then scribbled in a book with a… was that a Muggle _pen_? 

How fucking weird, this lot. 

“That was the most _brilliant_ thing I’ve ever seen!” Charlie heard Xander exclaim from behind him as he approached Oric and Saga. 

“Who _is_ she?” Someone asked to his right. 

“Is that… an _Opaleye_?” Another gasped. 

“Who’s the eye candy?” Oh, that must be… A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed the speaker was Beatrice, who was twirling the end of her long, black braid with a tattooed finger, staring at Theo, practically drooling. 

Charlie smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, half listening to the conversations around him, but really, he was studying the woman who just performed a _Muggle_ operation on a _dragon_ … and seemed to be successful at it, if Director Rawlings’ reaction was any indication. 

The woman’s back was still to him, her hands flying animatedly through the air while they spoke. A breeze tossed her loose curls around her head, picking up her plait, ruffling her blouse. Her dark wash Muggle jeans were tight on her – showing off a rather nice, round arse – and on her feet were dark brown boots that hugged her ankles. 

As if sensing his attention on them, Rawlings met his eye, smiled, and waved him over. Charlie grinned back and closed the wide space between them, just hearing the tail end of their conversation when he stopped dead in his tracks. 

“… association with Ronald Weasley, you must know his brother, Charlie?” 

The woman’s head whipped around, and her eyes widened in recognition.

His breath hitched in his chest. 

Hermione Granger. 

His youngest brother’s best friend. Or girlfriend, wasn’t she? He was so out of touch with current events. But… it _had_ been almost ten years since he last saw her.

Wow. She looked different. She was definitely not the rail-thin girl he remembered from the Battle of Hogwarts, malnourished, exhausted, and filthy from months on the run. He had only stayed for a couple of weeks after the battle, having to get back to The Hole, but in that time, she, Harry, and Ron secluded themselves to recover from the war, refusing to see anyone but a select few people outside of each other. 

Her body filled out as the years passed by, maturing as she aged with curves in all the right places. Her peaches and cream skin glowed in the setting sun, the light enhancing the dark freckles dotting the bridge of her nose. Her amber eyes scanned him, then flicked up to meet his blue, a small smile curling at the corners of her pillowy lips. 

She was stunning, and he was enthralled.

“Of course, I do! It’s been a long time, but I remember Charlie Weasley,” Hermione replied, her smile widening, her eyes locked on his. 

He blinked.

“Erm, right. Yeah, of course. Wow, Hermione. It’s been ages,” he finally said, offering a small smile in response. 

She huffed out a breathy laugh, then leaned towards him, wrapping her arms around him in an awkward hug. He squeezed her shoulders, then they separated. She may have been best friends with his brother, even unofficially adopted into the Weasley family as Harry had been, but he very rarely made it back to England. He knew _of_ her, thanks to his mother’s bragging when he did make it back home, but he didn’t actually _know_ her. 

And he found himself wanting to.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing in the Wizarding World.
> 
> This playlist by Maggie Kolb inspired part of this fic. There aren't any specific songs to go with the chapters. The entire playlist is just vibe: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1yIxaWjoFi9XFGXK0uYoDv?si=lDcAKShPQUmUz6r4iEyKXg

* * *

___________________________

Malfoy & Nott

Muggle & Wizard Law

56 Diagon Alley

___________________________

…Three Weeks Earlier…

_______________________________________________________________

“ _Eat_ , Hermione,” Theo chided, setting the container of veggie lo mein on the parchment she had been writing notes on. She froze, her quill halting in her hand, and she huffed out a breath, blowing a loose curl out of her face. Her amber gaze met Theo’s hazel, and she glared at him through slitted eyes.

He returned her glare, picking out a piece of broccoli with chop sticks and dropped it into his mouth, chewing carefully. “The case isn’t going anywhere.”

Sighing heavily, she laid her quill on the desk, tore the paper from a pair of wooden chopsticks, rubbed them together, then opened the little white box of take-away Chinese Theo had become so fond of, stabbing at the thick noodles in frustration.

“The _case_ ,” she said, chewing a mouthful of stir fry, “is _finally_ being heard next week. It needs to be airtight. Do you know how many hoops Draco had to jump through to even get it heard? It’s as if the Wizengamot doesn’t actually _care_ about it.”

Theo laughed, and Hermione flashed him a look.

“They only care about what’s lining their pockets, Hermione, you know that,” he replied, setting down his beef and broccoli to sip on a mug of egg drop soup. “And something as miniscule as a bloke breeding Crups isn’t really seen as worth the Wizengamot’s time.”

“Besides the obvious ethical dilemma that is experimental breeding, it’s been illegal since 1965. Do you have _any_ idea how Crups are bred, Theo? Those poor dogs-“

“I believe we got the same Care of Magical Creatures Mastery, Hermione,” Theo interrupted, using a finger to push his black-rimmed glasses up his nose.

Hermione flung a hand out towards him to emphasize that point, chewing her stolen bite of lo mein quickly.

“Exactly! You know how inhumane it is. Besides, Crups are little arseholes on the best of days, and highly aggressive towards Muggles. You wouldn’t believe the temperament of the ones I get at the clinic.”

“But it’s not necessarily _illegal_ to breed Crups. You know this. The breeder just has to go through the DRCMC-“

“And our bloke doesn’t have a license, so our case _should_ be worth the Wizengamot’s time,” Hermione stated huffily, pulling a spring roll from a near-translucent paper sleeve, and took a bite.

Theo sighed, rolling his eyes, and wiped his mouth and hands on a napkin with all the grace and training of a pure-blooded aristocrat. Standing up, he began to gather empty food containers and threw them in a brown paper sack. “You know the most will happen is he’s slapped with a fine. No one cares about Crups, especially when someone like Celestina Warbeck breeds them.”

“But-“

“You know it’s true.”

“Argh!” Hermione grunted in frustration, slamming her lo mein down on the table. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I _am_ , but I’m also not telling you anything you don’t already know. We’d have more of a case if his Crups were actually harming people, but they’re not.”

“You want to wait until unregistered hybrid dogs attack Muggles before we take this to the Wizengamot?” Hermione asked coolly, crossing her arms over her chest, staring at her best friend.

Theo returned her stare. “Don’t do that.”

“Do _what_?”

“ _That_ ,” he said, pointing his finger at her, waving it up and down over her person. “That bitchy guilt trip thing you do. You don’t get to do that with _me_.”

Hermione scoffed, but didn’t say anything. A loose lock of her curly chestnut hair fell in her face again and she childishly blew it away. She knew he was right, even if she wanted to throw reason out the window, even just for a moment, but immediately, guilt swirled uncomfortably in her gut. She knew if anyone was on her side when it came to the Crups case, it would be Theo.

She watched as her best friend – well, _one_ of her best friends – finished clearing the table of the leftover Chinese take-away, straightened the parchment he was working on, and sat down in his seat across the table from her. She studied him as he gathered the parchment, tapping the sheets together, and secured the stack with a paper clip, his elegant hands – not unlike a pianists’ – flowing like water between tasks.

He pushed his glasses up his nose again, and then carded a hand through his mop of curly brown hair. He picked up a quill, bit his lips together, and his eyes narrowed at whichever clause or contract he was working on in lieu of her case. His subconscious quirks made Hermione smile, adding to her minor non-platonic attraction to the man. Hermione then wondered, not for the first time, why they didn’t end up together years ago.

_You do know why. You’d kill each other._

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to guilt trip you. I know you’re right. I’m just… irritated,” Hermione said, clearing her throat.

Theo’s eyes flicked up to her and he set his quill down, crossing his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “I know you are. I’m not saying that it’s a lost cause either, Hermione. He’ll get fined for not having a license. You’re not going to change the world with a simple Crups case-”

She opened her mouth to retort, but Theo held up a hand to stop her, “- but it’s a _start_.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. Crups _were_ the least of their worries when it came to the magical beasts of the world, but pushing the actual legislation she wanted to push wasn’t in the cards – _yet_.

After the War, Hermione returned to Hogwarts to make-up her seventh year and sit for her N.E.W.T.s. The decision wasn’t a surprise – well, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone except to people named Ronald Weasley. He wanted her to go to Auror Training with him and Harry, and she adamantly refused. Not only was returning to complete her education at Hogwarts part of her basic psychology, but she had five, ten, even fifteen-year plans that didn’t involve chasing fugitive Death Eaters around the UK – or getting married and having babies at the tender age of nineteen, much to Ron’s chagrin.

When she did return to Hogwarts – with only sixteen others from her year – she found the structure of a school schedule welcoming, and quickly became engrossed in studying for her record-breaking eight N.E.W.T.s. After weeks of silent studying in the library after curfew with only one other eighth year, she approached him when she noticed he was consistently checking out the same books she was, and asked him what his future plans were.

Theodore Nott was an anomaly. He was a Slytherin pure-blood who didn’t subscribe to pure-blood ideologies, liked Care of Magical Creatures and planned to go for his Mastery in the field, was best friends with Draco Malfoy (another returning eighth year, though he was forced to as part of his probation), and was studying for an additional six N.E.W.T.s. They bonded quickly over their shared interests, and eventually Draco (initially with _a lot_ of hesitation and general mistrust on both Draco and Hermione’s parts) migrated into their little study group. Soon, much to everyone’s shock – _especially_ Ginny and Neville’s – the three of them became inseparable.

As eighth year came to a close, and Hermione earned O’s on all of her N.E.W.T.s, she attended the University of Edinburgh’s Royal School of Veterinary Studies while simultaneously studying (and applying her veterinary skills) with Theo under Galton Scamander for their Care of Magical Creatures Masteries. Draco went straight to university in Muggle London to study law, and Theo joined him one year later after completing his Mastery. Only six years after Hogwarts, Hermione gained her veterinary license, and began studying to get into law school. Two years ago, she joined Draco and Theo’s law office as a paralegal, though working to become a barrister in her own right, thus beginning her journey of advocating for the rights of all magical beasts and beings.

It was already proving to be a very long journey indeed as her Crups case was literally two years in the making, what with the Wizengamot constantly refiling it to the bottom of the pile. But finally, _finally_ – though not without the help of her well-connected other _other_ best friend – it was being heard.

And, as Theo said, it was a start. 

Hermione picked up her lo mein and took another bite, nodding.

“Now that that’s settled,” Theo said with a tuck of his chin, “How is Trix?”

“She’s doing well and is scheduled to be spayed in a few weeks once the kittens wean. I’m so relieved Mrs. Erwing agreed to spay after this litter. Kneazles aren’t as popular as they used to be, and these poor animals spend all of their time sitting at the Menagerie until they’re too old to be adopted. When that happens,” she waved a hand in mock dismissal, “they’re just left to their own devices.” Hermione found herself bitter about it, thinking of her own familiar. Crookshanks was already so old when he adopted her, it was a miracle he hadn’t been abandoned to the streets of Diagon Alley as a stray.

Come to think about it, she didn’t even think Wizarding humane societies existed.

_Another ‘To Do’ to add to the list._

Theo nodded again, picking up his quill, and scratched a few lines on his parchment. “That is a relief.”

Hermione was about to ask which case he was working on when the conference room door flung open and Draco Malfoy sauntered in, flinging two bags onto the table – one was his expensive Italian leather messenger bag he used for work and the other was a Louis Vuitton nappy bag – and used his now-free hand to grasp his wiggly one year old son to lower him to the floor, then breathed in heavily.

Scorpius squealed when he saw Hermione, Hermione squealed when she saw Scorpius, and she dipped out of her chair onto the floor, settling on her knees, and held her hands out for the baby boy. He crawled quickly to her, burying his head into the crook of her neck and she placed a kiss to her godson’s temple.

He leaned back and smiled, placing his chubby hands on her cheeks, then planted a wet open-mouthed kiss on her chin. She laughed and ran a hand through his silky white-blonde hair, then stood, taking her seat again, cuddling the baby close.

“Thank Merlin you’re here, Granger. Scorp’s teething, Tori’s bedridden with morning sickness, Mother's in Cairo, and I’ve got the Mulciber case that’s being heard on Monday…” Draco trailed off, carding a hand through his hair, and grabbed his messenger bag, pulling out thick green files, quills, bottles of ink.

“Hello to you, too, Draco. Why yes, I’m doing well, thanks. Oh, how’re Trix and the kittens? They’re just fine. I finally get to spay the poor thing in a few weeks so she doesn’t have to live the rest of her life queening every season,” Hermione said in a mock baby voice, smiling at Scorp who squealed again and patted her cheeks.

Draco sighed heavily. “Hi, Hermione. You look well. Glad to hear Mrs. Erwing’s retained some sense.”

Hermione looked up at Draco and smiled broadly at him. “Yes, I’ll take Scorp home with me tonight.”

“You are a goddess amongst men,” he said in relief, rifling through his case folders, stacking them neatly.

Casting a quick _tempus_ , she stood, propping the baby on a hip, and began to clean up her space. Closing her half-eaten lo mein, she placed it in a brown to-go sack, then closed her own case file and stuffed it into her bag. Slipping back into her trainers, she reached across the table for the strap of Scorpius’ bag, but Theo stopped her and grabbed it.

“I’ll walk you to the Floo,” he said, slinging the nappy bag over his shoulder and picked up her leftover Chinese.

Hermione walked around the table to Draco, handing him his son to snuggle before they left for the evening. “I’ll drop him off before I head to the clinic in the morning. Does Tori need anything? We can swing by the market for some of those ginger drops I mentioned.”

“I think she would try anything at this point. She hasn’t been able to keep much down,” Draco said, kissing Scorpius on the forehead and squeezing him before handing him back to Hermione.

“I wouldn’t worry too much as long as she stays hydrated. Ginny had awful morning sickness with both James and Albus, and she ate those drops like candy. See you tomorrow.” Hermione gathered the baby on her hip again and patted Draco’s shoulder before following Theo out of the conference room, through the darkened halls of their small law office in the heart of Diagon Alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am beta-less, so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Chapter 2 will be out soon. I'm finishing up two stories for fests I signed up for and then 'Capul Balaurului' will have my full attention (and I promise a much longer chapter 2)!
> 
> I try not to let Americanisms slide in (aside from spelling because I’m not about to try to undo thirty years of spelling a certain way, as well as put up with the millions of red squiggly lines in Word, lol) when I’m writing Harry Potter fanfiction, but upon looking at every Chinese/Cantonese restaurant menu I could find online for the London area, nothing made sense to me (except the fact that every restaurant seems to have Dim Sum, which makes me a little jealous, lol). I mean, do they not serve egg drop soup over in England? Or lo mein? Or beef and broccoli? I guess us Americans just have substandard expectations when it comes to our Chinese take-out places because I’ve never been to a fancy one. The best Chinese/Cantonese seems to be served out of a questionable little hole in the wall. And because I love (Americanized?) Chinese/Cantonese food, I allowed this one little (possible) Americanism slide in. Ha!


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